


The Dark Lord's Secret

by draconismalfoi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, First Time, Good Malfoys, Harry Potter was Raised by Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy is a good man, M/M, Romance, Small bit of angst, harry doesn't know about magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-01-09 06:33:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12270852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draconismalfoi/pseuds/draconismalfoi
Summary: On October 31, 1981, young Harry Potter and the Dark Lord Voldemort disappear. Little does the public know that Voldemort has chosen to raise Harry to ensure that the boy never grows powerful enough to kill him. Harry grows up a shy, awkward boy who has a love of reading. His attention is caught by a blonde boy who occasionally stops by his house with his father.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fanfic so please be gentle. I have written many times in the past but never found a suitable plotline to write. I know the concept of Voldemort raising Harry is pretty cliche but I hope to have some originality in mine.

It was the historic day of October 31, 1981, that Albus Dumbledore came across the bodies of the Potter couple. James Potter was discovered, lifeless, on the living room floor while his wife, Lily, was found in her child’s nursery. Her body was strewn along the floor like a puppet whose strings were cut. Though she had been found in the nursery, her son Harry Potter, was nowhere to be found. 

Dumbledore and the Aurors searched countless hours but it was if baby Harry vanished into thin air. The only suspect in his disappearance was the one and only Dark Lord Voldemort. Voldemort had planned to kill the child after hearing a prophecy, in hopes of getting rid of his biggest threat. He chose to go to the Potter family himself, leaving his followers to kill the other child of the prophecy, Neville Longbottom. That was the last moment any of his followers saw him. When the new year came along, most of the remaining Death Eaters were found and questioned. Not a single soul had seen the Dark Lord. They believed him to be dead or rebuilding his power. However, when questioned under veritaserum, they swore up and down they had no idea where their master had gone. The investigation came to a stand-still when no new evidence came up and though reluctant, the task team assigned to the case were forced to label it a cold case.

Though the Aurors were forced to give up, Dumbledore never did. He knew he would see Harry Potter again, he just hoped that the boy would be of sane mind. He knew Tom Riddle very well, and he prayed to Merlin that the foolish man wouldn’t destroy the child in his insanity.

 

* * *

 

Teary emerald green eyes stared into ruby red ones for a long moment. He wasn’t sure who the man was, but he had hurt him, his forehead pounding. When Harry had cried from the pain, the man put his cold, long-fingered hand over his mouth, forcing him to quiet. He trembled in fear when a cold voice hissed to him. “If you don’t keep silent, I will change my mind to keep you and kill you instantly.”

The red eyes looked at him with such hatred that it froze Harry to the spot. There was a truly dangerous aura around this man and he knew that he should listen to him. He had already cried about his mum and his dad but the man ignored him. That’s all Harry wanted. His mother. With her loving green eyes, and fiery red hair that constantly smelled of cinnamon. Her warm presence was what he needed while he was trapped in a cold, musty room.

Harry’s attention was brought to a movement beside the bed he had been thrown onto. It was too dark for him to see but he felt something slither onto the bed slowly, a soft hissing pulling Harry’s attention to the left side of the bed. His eyes came upon a huge, rifle green snake. His eyes widened in fear as it raised it’s head and stuck it’s tongue out, running it lightly against his small cheek. His breathing picked up and his eyes filled with tears. Before they could fall however a gentle voice called to him.

“Hush hatcheling, there is no need for tears. I will not harm you.”

The gentleness of the voice reminded him of his mother and he instantly calmed down. He reached out a hand and wrapped it around the neck, pulling the snake towards him. A childish giggle filled the room as the snake wrapped it’s large body around Harry firmly, but not enough to hurt him. “My name is Nagini, young one.”

Harry tilted his head to the side curiously. “Gee-ni,” He said, unable to fully say her name but she didn’t seem to mind as she ran her tongue once more over his cheek affectionately. Young Harry was not sure if he would ever see his mother and father again but at least he had a friend, his childlike mind not at minding that it was a snake. There was at least some hope as to how things were going to be here in this strange man’s house.  

 

* * *

 

Lord Voldemort had never thought he’d stoop so low to end up raising a child. Children were filthy and annoying with their constant messes and crying. He was a Lord, why did he choose to raise the stupid Potter brat. Then he remembers the beginning of the prophecy. This was a boy who had the potential to kill him. It was the smartest choice for him to raise him since then the boy would never grow to his potential.  Oh, Voldemort will make sure he wasn’t a worthless idiot but the boy will never be exposed to magic. It was why he chose the boy to be his horcrux. No one would be able to find him again and his own dark magic will block out the child’s. It was a fool-proof plan. The only problem was the actual raising of the child. He could not risk anyone finding out that the beloved Harry Potter was with him so his only choice was to move away from England altogether.

Not wanting to deal with the child, he was quickly stunned, and Voldemort took him with him to a safe-house he had in Germany. He had bought the place when he traveled, a small stop on a bigger journey but the place was perfect. It was a small two-bedroom muggle house in the woods. The nearest neighbors were miles away. He quickly depositing the child in the second room, ordering his familiar Nagini to watch him while he worked to ensure the safety of the house. He established the strongest muggle repelling wards, and other ones that would keep the house off of anyone’s radar.

Voldemort knew he would have to get a house-elf because there was no way he would clean up after the child himself. Menial labor was not for a Lord to do. He was grateful that he chose Germany because they would never question why he would need said house-elf. It was quite easy to get one and bond it to him. He immediately ordered the pest, Binky, it’s name apparently was, to stock the house with food and to feed the slightly less annoying infant. Voldemort had been surprised by how well Nagini got along with the child. It seemed that with his soul, the infant inherited parseltongue. Nagini was able to calm Harry and keep him entertained which meant that Voldemort was less likely to strangle the boy.

When not checking on his charge, Voldemort researched ways to truly block out the child’s magic. So far, all the tomes spoke of immediate death when the wizard lost his magic. That or the wizard would become an obscurus. Both outcomes were useless to Voldemort. Either would end in death and he needed to keep the boy alive. In his anger, he threw the books across the room, watching them slam into the wall. He stared at the books in silence, anger swimming in his veins when he heard a cry. Damn the child! Now he chose to annoy him. Voldemort stormed from his room and over to the other side of the house, throwing the door open. On the bed, tiny hands clasped to his forehead was Harry Potter sobbing his eyes out. There seemed to be blood dripping from the scar that ran along his face. Blinking, Voldemort watched the boy curiously, anger slipping away slowly. Harry’s face scrunched up face relaxed but he still whimpered lightly to himself. Voldemort walked over and cleaned the blood from the boy’s face and looked at the scar intently. That’s when he realized that Harry probably felt his anger and it triggered a reaction from his scar. This was an annoying tidbit, since Voldemort, though he loathed admitting, had trouble keeping his temper. He knew it came with constantly splitting his soul, a small side effect of immortality. He would need to find a way to keep the anger at bay or at least controlled so he didn’t have to deal with an annoying snot-faced Potter.

It was at that moment Voldemort knew that raising Harry was going to be the biggest challenge he ever faced.

 


	2. Childhood Innocence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Here is the second chapter! I was really inspired to immediately continue writing this. I hope this trend sticks around. Thank you to those who left kudos and reviews, I really love them!

_Five years later_

The sunlight streamed through dusty curtains, upon the small body of Harry Potter and the snake draped along his pillow. His small chest rose and fell as he dreamt of a red-haired woman, with the same green eyes that he had. Just as he was about to reach out to her, the door to his room slammed open jolting him from his bed. With wide-eyes and a fast beating heart, he stared at the pale form that was his father. After having seen the snake-like features of the man every day, it no longer scared him like when he was a baby. He had asked Nagini a year ago about his father’s face and all she told him was that he had a mutation. Harry hadn’t known what the word mutation was but he knew that it couldn’t have been good if it made you as disfigured as his father was.

His father currently stared at him coldly, the black robes he always wore swaying slightly as if there was an eternal breeze moving around him. Harry got out from his bed and stood next to it obediently, his arms by his sides. He tilted his head to look at the hem of the robes, having been used to this posture for as long as he could remember. “Father.” He said softly, his hands twitching at his sides. Harry wasn’t particularly scared of his father, there was a weariness that made him reluctant to act out. It was as if a part of him knew that his Father was dangerous and could harm him easily if he wanted to.

“Child.” The cold voice hissed at him as the footsteps approached him. He felt a cold hand on the top of his head which made him freeze immediately. “It is time for you to do your chores. Make sure they are done exactly how you were taught, or face… my displeasure.” At the last word, a twinge of pain shot through the scar on Harry’s forehead but he refused to move. He knew the chores were simple but his father was very particular when it came to cleaning. He wanted everything as spotless as possible. At first, there was a housekeeper, but when Harry became five, his father decided it was time for him to start doing his share. It wasn’t much, a bit of sweeping and washing the dishes. His father took care of the cooking so Harry never had to.

His father took his hand off Harry’s head and walked to the doorway. “Come Nagini.” He hissed out before leaving the room quickly. Harry watched as the large female snake made her way after his father, sighing to himself. Shaking his head of any negative thoughts, he began to do his daily routine. First, he would clean up his room, making sure that his bed was made and any books he had were put on the shelves. He didn’t have many, just a few chapter books that he was given to by his father. His favorite was about snakes, specifically the breed of snakes that Nagini came from. The next thing on his schedule was to clean the dishes that accumulated from breakfast. His father told him that he would cook and Harry would be responsible for cleaning up the mess before he was allowed to eat himself. At the table, his father sat reading a fairly large book, his red eyes never straying away from the words. He barely acknowledged Harry as he finished cleaning and sat down next to him. Putting the book aside, the man began to eat and Harry followed. It was completely silent except for the clinking of forks on the plates.

When they were done, Harry cleared the table and began on washing the dishes. His father picked the book up and went to his study to work. Making sure the kitchen was spotless Harry followed after, his lighter footsteps echoing in the house. He stopped outside the study room, knocked, and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. It took not a minute for the door to open and Harry stepped in. The study was larger than Harry’s bedroom, three of the four walls in the room were covered in bookshelves. The books were practically pouring off of them but no matter how many times Harry stomped and jumped around the shelves, they didn’t move. There was a tall fireplace that was directly behind his father’s massive mahogany desk. The desk was surprisingly organized, unlike the shelves. There was a small pile of books on the left side while the right side had four folders. There was usually nothing in the middle of the desk unless his father was reading a book like he had been before Harry came in. In front of his father’s desk, in the center of the room was a small table that was reserved strictly for Harry. It was a fold-out one and his father only took it out during this time.

 

On the table were a book, some paper, and a pencil. He immediately went and sat down, sitting up as straight as possible as he peered down at the paper before him. It was the writing lessons his father told him he would be having. Picking up the pencil, he began to do his lessons, taking his time to make sure each letter was as neat as possible. His father never told him to do it exactly like that, it was just understood between the two of them. When he completed the papers, he stood up and left them in a neat pile on the large desk in front of him before sitting down once more, picking up the book. It was thin, around 20 pages, and as Harry leafed through it he realized it was a short story. It was pretty dull but he would never admit it out loud. It was about government and how it worked. It was a summary and Harry had a feeling when he was older he would end up having to read the larger version. It took Harry longer than usual to read the book because there were some words that he didn’t know. Using the blank paper he had left on his desk, he wrote them down and walked over to his father, who peered at him before handing him a dictionary.

After he was done with studies, he sweeps and dusts making certain that everything was in order. His chores would end there and he was allowed to do whatever he wanted. He just had to make sure he didn’t disturb his father and didn’t wander alone into the woods outside. Running to his room Harry grabbed a sweater and hissed to Nagini, asking her to follow him. Together the two ran out into the yard, well Harry ran whilst Nagini slithered her way next to him. Harry loved this time of the year when the leaves were falling from the trees because he could take them and make big piles and jump into them. Giggling, he picked up a big pile in his arms and dumped them onto Nagini, who was the least bit affected.

“What are you doing hatcheling?” She hissed at him, her head popping from the leaves. Harry giggled again and shrugged.

“I wanted to bury you under the leaves, and see how long it took for you to come out.” He emphasized this by dumping another pile of leaves onto the snake. Nagini easily slithered out of the way and shook her head, her hissing laugh bringing a huge smile to Harry’s face. She made her way over to Harry and wrapped herself around the little boy’s feet causing him to topple into his own leaf pile. When Harry tried to get up, the female snake wrapped her body around him, making it impossible to move. “Let’s see how long it’ll take for you to get out of my grasp, young one.” She said, resting her head on his shoulder. Harry struggled for a moment before giving up, knowing the familiar was just too strong.  Looking up at the sky, the young boy let out a sigh his fingers drifting along the smooth scales of his only friend.

“Nagini, you’re my favorite, did you know that?” The snake he was speaking to lifted her head and looked at him in what Harry thought was curiosity. She ran her thin tongue along Harry’s cheek. “You’re my favorite human, little one.”  

* * *

 

  
Lord Voldemort had no idea what it was he was doing. He was not a parental figure, he didn’t coddle anyone. He was the greatest Dark Lord of all time and yet here he was playing house with an annoying child and his familiar. He can’t say he particularly missed his band of sycophants but he did enjoy feeling them bend to his will. Here, he could not make anyone bend to his will, he couldn’t enforce his power. He needed to do something before people completely forget his reign, his power. As he was beginning to plot, his thoughts were interrupted when the Potter menace entered his study. Not that the boy made any attempt at conversation, which the elder man appreciated. He would not be able to stand the brat if he was a chatterbox.

He watched the boy from the top of the book he was reading, eyes narrowing in concentration. He had to admit to himself that the child wasn’t as bad as he would have thought. Very quiet, obedient. It was all the boy knew, Voldemort made sure of that. He held a no tolerance policy and though he could just crucio the child, he refused. He didn’t want to deal with a child of insanity. If anything, he thought about how he could build the precious “child of the prophecy” to just what he wanted, and there was nothing he could do about it. He decided when the child was 4 years old that he would educate him, make sure he was smart but still ignorant of his origins. It was difficult for him, having to hide his own magic but opening that can of worms in front of the growing child would push back all his work.

He had gotten rid of the house-elf the second Harry asked him about the creature. There would be absolutely no contact with magic except for his familiar Nagini. He gave his familiar a stern talking to and a jolt of Cruciatus to ensure that the snake would never tell the child of magic. She could coddle the boy all she wanted, which surprisingly she did. Treating the child as if he was her own. Normally it would piss him off that his familiar chose to spend her time with someone else but it kept the child out of his hair so he didn’t let it bother him.

As Voldemort sat in his study, he couldn’t help but think about how Harry was growing up. For a brief moment, he imagined the kid going off to Hogwarts but halted that thought immediately. There was not a single way that could happen unless he completely stripped the child of all he was. It was odd for the Dark Lord to have such reluctant thoughts and he knew it was because he was trapped alone with a child. He needed to do something significant soon or he was sure to lose his already crumbling mind. Sitting back in his chair, he came up with a plan and got up swiftly grabbing a small pot from one of the top shelves of the right bookcase. He locked the door wandlessly and went straight to the fireplace. After having grabbed a handful of the powder, he stepped into the fireplace and hissed out, “Malfoy Manor.”

Stepping out of the fireplace onto polished marble, he vanished any soot not having to wait long before a house-elf quickly informed him that Lucius would be there in a moment. Walking over to an armchair, he sat down looking unamused at the gaudiness of the manor. It was ridiculous to him that Purebloods needed to show their power through their money, instead of their actual magic. Before he could work himself up to disgust, a house-elf popped in and set a tray of tea and finger foods on the table in front of him and then left. It was then that Lucius Malfoy sauntered his way into the room. He stopped at the table and sank to his knee, head bowed in submission. “My lord, it’s incredibly relieving to see you alive and well.” Voldemort let the proud man stay in that position for a few moments.

“Rise Lucius, my most faithful. I have business I need to discuss with you.”

…

Upon returning to the small house he inhabited, he immediately sought out the child and found him outside with Nagini. Stopping right next to the two of them on the floor, he narrowed his red eyes as Harry instantly stood up and resumed his usual position. He took in the lack of eye contact and closed fists, satisfied that he managed to make the boy just how he wanted.

“I plan on having a guest tomorrow, so you better make sure everything is to standard. You do not speak unless spoken to, do I make myself clear?” The boy tensed up and bowed his head even lower as if he was trying to fold into himself. “Yes, father.”

  



	3. New Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is both an update and not, I hated how the chapter came out especially because it didn't follow the outline that I created for myself. It also was written when I was on sleep medicine so I apologize if it didn't make sense or didn't come off clear. I am working on the next chapter as I post this so there will be no long wait it.

Lucius Malfoy had decided on June 5th, 1980 that he would longer put his life on the line for anyone but his son. The heir that came to him and his wife when they least expected to it. After struggling for years to conceive, Narcissa and Lucius had lost hope that they would have a child. So when Narcissa had given the news, four months into her pregnancy that they would be having a son the pureblood lord was ecstatic.

Now he sat stiffly and watched said heir run around his room, chasing after a toy dragon Lucius enchanted to move, and he feared. He feared for life but more he feared for Draco’s. The Dark Lord was merciless and cruel and he would use anyone and anything to his advantage. As the Dark Lord’s right-hand man, his son would be thrust into a war he would never wish for. Lucius may raise his son to be a good pureblood heir but he would never teach him to bow to anyone. He was a Malfoy and the Malfoy’s were the purest magical line for generations and his son will be a true one, unlike his father. Having these thoughts in mind, Lucius did something he never expected to do. He called Dumbledore.

Talking with the old man was the only thing he could think of to keep his family safe. The Dark Lord would ruin his family and shame them forever if he didn’t act quickly, even if that meant being a spy for the pathetic Order of the Phoenix. There would be nothing that could keep him from protecting all he loved.

* * *

 

Harry and Nagini were lying outside once more, the leaves hiding their position quite easily. There were no words spoken, no need to when each other’s company was a solace. In the silence, Harry thought about who might come by that day. His father refused to explain more to the boy and it kept Harry in a constant state of anxious excitedness. Though Harry knew his father would never allow him to speak to the guest, he wished somehow they would want to speak to him. Would the person be interested in him? Would they have dark hair or light hair? So many questions filtered through the child’s mind, imagination running wild. 

Harry turned his head down to look at the snake that was snoozing against his chest and gently caressed her scales. Nagini knew more about the guest than she let on but he never pressured her to speak of him, choosing to wait to see and hear them himself. Just as he was beginning to doze off to sleep, the front door to the cottage slammed open, jolting him up. He looked to the doorway and saw his father standing there calmly waiting for him to get inside. The guest must be coming soon or normally he would be allowed lounging in the leaves. Hissing to the large snake, he got up quickly, dusted himself off and made his way into the house. His father said nothing as he leads young Harry to his room and opened the door for him to enter. As Harry entered the room he was stopped by his father’s arm barricading his way, in his hand was a new book. The cover was brown and looked to be very old, the binding was creased and cracking. “You will be quiet, you will stay in your room and read and you will not disturb me.” Was all that was said as Father pushed the book into small hands and left, closing the door behind him. There was no complaint from the raven-haired child as he and Nagini, went to his bed and laid down, getting comfortable amongst his sheets. Once he was finally settled down, Harry cracked the book open and blinked at the title. It was a series of horror stories by writer H.P. Lovecraft. The contents were not usually what his father had him read, but the preface had him intrigued so he began reading the first story, The Call of Cthulhu. The text was a little dry and had the five-year-old, dozing off into a gentle rest that was roused when voices drifted through the small cottage.

One was his father’s voice and the other was a deep male voice, it was calm and even-toned. It made Harry crawl out of bed and press his ear to the door. There was something about the new male voice that made the child feel at ease. He wasn’t sure what it was but he wished his father’s voice was like this man’s. Father had a cold, high-pitched voice, that sometimes made goosebumps rise on Harry’s arms and made him distinctly uncomfortable. Against his better judgment, Harry cracked the door open to see the guest. Father and the man’s backs were turned to the door and all hair could see was long, white blonde hair and fancy clothes, fancier than Harry had ever seen. It was like this person was a prince. The man, at that moment, looked around the home, his light grey eyes landing on Harry from the crack in the door. Freezing, Harry held his breath and prayed that he would not be revealed.

“Your residence is very homely, my lord.” Lucius Malfoy said as he winked at the little boy that was hiding, turning to bow his head to the Dark Lord. He was curious about the boy but knew better than to ask, it was not his place. “Thank you, Lucius,” the Dark Lord spoke, bringing Lucius’ attention back to the task at hand. “It’s not what someone of my standing should suffer to live in but at least it’s hidden away from prying eyes. No one would ever think the Great Dark Lord Voldemort lived in a muggle hovel.” Lucius could practically hear the sneer in the other male’s voice and couldn’t agree more. No one would believe that the Dark Lord would ever force himself to live as a muggle or that he would have a child with him as well. Something prodded at him from the back of his mind about the child he had seen, why did they seem so familiar? He chose not to get too lost in his thoughts, knowing that the Dark Lord was very talented at legilimency and could tear his lies from his mind and then kill him right then and there.

“Let’s go to my study and talk more in depth, I have plans I need to show you.” The Dark Lord led Lucius to a door right next to where the boy was hiding. The study within it was larger than it looked from the outside so he knew the Dark Lord put an extension charm on it. On the large wood desk were piles of what looked to be maps and letters. It seemed that the malignant man was preparing for a big mission and that worried Lucius endlessly, though his face was a calm mask of indifference. The Lord walked in and sat in the chair directly in front of the desk, waiting to hear what was planned.

“Lucius, I plan to break out my followers that are currently trapped in Azkaban. With them there, they are useless to me. I have to stay here in this location so you will have to be the one to lead this mission.” Cold, red-eyes bore into the blonde male showing that should Lucius complain about his task there would be extreme consequences. “I want there to be no connection to my being for the source of the breakout.” Lucius nodded his head obediently and went down on one knee, his snake cane resting on the ground. “My Lord, you have presented me the most gracious gift, I shall not disappoint you.”  At that moment, he had expected a good Crucio but the Dark Lord just looked at him with disgust and pulled out a stack of papers. “These are my notes, look them over and prepare a plan for me.” That’s all that was said and Lucius knew it was a firm dismissal. Getting up from the floor, he took the papers and nodded once more. “I will get this to you straight away.” Just as Lucius turned to leave the Dark Lord said something that stopped him in his tracks. “I have the Potter child.” It left the pureblood lord frozen, dumbstruck. That’s what was familiar about the child that he had seen peeking through the door crack. Those features were distinctly Potter blood except for the emerald green eyes he caught sight of. Lucius turned to face the snake-like man and tried not to show his utter curiosity. “Do you have plans for the child?”

The Dark Lord sat down behind his desk and leaned forward on his elbows. “I have some idea of what I plan on doing. I refuse to speak any of it until I am quite sure.” He leaned so his body rested against the high-backed chair, finger crossed and pressed under his chin. The Dark Lord didn’t say anything and Lucius took that as a dismissal. He got on one knee and tilted his head respectfully, back straight, for a few moments and then raised himself onto his feet again. He turned and opened the door, quietly closing the door behind him.

As he was leaving he noticed the door next to the study was in fact opened and there stood the small boy in the doorway. Wrapped around his body, practically swallowing him, was a large snake, the Dark Lord’s familiar. Lucius looked back where the Dark Lord’s study door was still firmly closed and looked back at the boy. He reached average height for someone so young and had a wild nest of black hair on his head. It was if James Potter was shrunk down right in front of him, everything was a carbon copy except for those eyes. It was the piercing, earnest green eyes that had Lucius freeze in his spot. “Hello, there child,” Lucius said quietly, eyes fixed on the scar on the boy’s forehead. One of the hands that were holding a worn book reached up to cover said scar and returned to holding the battered literature. “Do you like reading?” The boy looked down at his book and nodded, he pointed a finger towards the bookshelf on the right side of his bed that was filled with books before looking back at Lucius.

 

* * *

  
Harry stared up at the blonde male in complete awe. This person had to be an angel. Harry had seen an angel in a book about religion that he was given by his father. Each picture showed a porcelain-skinned beauty, with a halo of light around their heads and that is exactly what the guest in front of him had. The long blonde-hair glimmered in the natural sunlight and Harry wished he could reach to touch it. The man kept asking him questions but Harry knew better then to open his mouth, his father would punish him badly if he disobeyed the talking rule. He was to remain silent when spoken to and that is exactly what he chose to be. Though he did try to get away with communicating by hand and head gestures. They only talked, if you could call it that, for a few moments before the man said something Harry never expected. 

“When I come again, I shall bring you a new book.” The shock was evident on the young boy’s face, he had never been given anything new. All the books he had owned had been his father’s for many years over and instead of being thrown away was given to Harry. Before they could speak more the study door opened and Harry closed his door quickly and quietly, running softly to his bed, making sure to look as if he had been reading the entire time. He could hear the muffled voices of the two males behind the door before the voices trailed away towards the entrance of the cottage. There was nothing but silence once the front door closed and Harry wondered if his father left with Lucius Malfoy. He crept out of bed and made his way towards his door when the door opened before him. His entire body jerked as he let out a gasp of shock. In the doorway stood his father, looking particularly smug. It was an expression that Harry didn’t see often enough and the boy liked it.

“Harry, you did well, I didn’t hear a single sound out of you today when I was with my guest. You may take the rest of the day to play with Nagini and I may grant you another book.” A wide smile spread across Harry’s face and unconsciously he walked quickly over to his father and hugged him around his waist. The two never showed physical affection except for the occasional pat on the head so neither was comfortable with this but Harry didn’t let go until a jolt of pain went through his forehead. Pulling back to rub his head, he looked up to see an indescribable emotion on the taller male’s face. Not wanting to risk his new book being taken away before he even got it, Harry went back to his bed. “Will your guest come again?” Harry asked timidly, opening the thick book in front of him. He wanted to come off curious but not over eager. As the door closed he heard a simple word. “Yes.”

  
  



End file.
